


Sick

by jb_slasher



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Author Is Clueless, Cancer, Chelsea - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-25
Updated: 2005-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:04:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb_slasher/pseuds/jb_slasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is dying. John can't let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: contains major character death.

He doesn't know how much longer he can take this. He's even worse than he was before and it's getting intolerable to even lie still in bed. The painkillers aren't working, he feels dirty and he can't even cleanse himself without John helping him. He can't keep anything down, even water makes him sick.

He's always asking why Johnny stays when he's only getting worse. He never gets a proper answer. Johnny just squeezes his hand and smiles, now an unhappy smile that Frank hates so much. He wishes Johnny would smile a happy smile just once before he's gone.


	2. Chapter 2

He was so thirsty and his hand hurt so much.

" _Fuck._ " His voice was too low, too silent, he couldn't make a sound. The word was just his mouth moving.

The pain was just... _there_ all the fucking time and his mouth was so dry.

He tried to nudge Johnny awake but the chair was too far away and he couldn't reach with his better hand.

He thought he was going to die.

Then he reached too far and almost dropped from the bed. And Johnny opened his eyes.

He knew he was exaggerating. This was nothing compared to yesterday.


	3. Chapter 3

He's standing naked on the beach, all for the world to see but he's alone and that's exactly what he needs right now: solitude. He's standing there in the rain, warm drops that in time fade and become cold, icy streaks of water that make him shiver but still he stays. He feels dirty, wants this storm - this storm that he's waiting for but which won't reach him in time - to cleanse him.

He didn't ask for this thing to eat him alive, to eat away at his insides. Tomorrow his freedom is gone; tomorrow they will take him to the hospital. He can't manage at home anymore. The thing has eaten too much and he feels this hollowness that hurts. His meds aren't working anymore; he needs something stronger, even Johnny can see it.

He needs to feel clean for this one moment, needs to feel his freedom at its fullest for what might be - for what probably _is_ \- the last time. Tomorrow they will take him to the hospital, tomorrow they will do more tests, they will take his blood and his urine, they might even take spinal fluid again, but they will definitely humiliate him tomorrow, whatever they will do. He will feel as dirty and naked as he did just now.

For this one moment, he feels clean of everything he's ever done wrong in his life - all his sins and faults washed away - and forgets about everything, including the disease inside of him that consumes him. There is no pain, no meds, no tumor spreading in his system. He is free of it and this moment is enough.

The difference is the freedom. From tomorrow on, he will be a prisoner because of the thing that continues to eat away inside him.

The difference is Johnny won't see him free ever again.

The difference is that after tonight he will never feel clean again.


	4. Chapter 4

He needs to get out of here, this place is suffocating him. But every time he takes his IV and climbs out of bed, someone stops him in the hallway and walks him back to his room. Of course they don't understand. He can't breathe in here and they expect him to hold on? This is insanity disguised in the clothes of health, sanity and sterility. Johnny even might understand if he weren't so hung up on the pain and fear. But he is, and that makes him blind to Frank's needs, Frank's _own_ needs that exclude the word "sickness".


	5. One More Medicated Peaceful Moment

That's what he needs and wants, and that's what he gets. Just one more peaceful moment before the pain comes back. It's never enough but he takes what he can because he has no choice. He's grateful for the numbness. He used to hate it when he would sit on his legs for too long or wake up with his hand crushed underneath his weight. Now, he's just grateful that he can't feel a thing. He smiles at Johnny who smiles back. It's still not an entirely genuine smile - because Johnny hasn't managed one of those for a long time now - but it's enough. He remembers a time when he could still make Johnny laugh.

_"I can smell the dawn," he said and Johnny chuckled. "What?" "And I can hear the sun rise." Another chuckle, and Johnny took his hand and leaned in to kiss him._

He remembers it well because it was one of the few times his head had been clear, no drugs and no pain. Now everything is either a drug-induced haze - sometimes he can't tell if he's talking to Johnny or to the wall - or a pain-stricken clarity - it clears his head but mostly he blacks out because of it. Now those clear moments are gone.

He hates that Johnny won't touch him like he used to. Now, Johnny's touches are feather-light, like Frank's going to break into pieces if Johnny wraps his fingers around his hand. He's weak now, yes, but he's not fragile like that.

Sometimes he wakes up when it's still dark and Johnny's still asleep. He knows Johnny can't sleep much anymore, hasn't been able to for months now, ever since Frank had to come stay in the hospital. Those times he asks if Johnny can smell the dawn, if he can hear the sun rise, if he can see the red and blue of daybreak that he can't.

Other times he opens his eyes and the nursing staff is there. He knows what has just happened, and he won't ask and Johnny won't tell. He lets Johnny climb in next to him, lets Johnny utter sentences with lots of "you're alright" and "you're okay", lets Johnny touch as much as he needs to. Those times he knows Johnny remembers Frank is still human, Frank is still here.

At times he wakes up with his head in Johnny's lap, with Johnny holding him, gently massaging his scalp. He hates looking into the mirror, hates being reminded of his hair. He feels naked without it but he refuses to wear a wig or a hat. He never goes anywhere anyway, so what does it matter?

He hates that his dignity is gone. He hates being trapped here, in this room, in this bed. He hates that Johnny is trapped here with him, because of that one part of him. He hates that part of himself because it doesn't only hurt him but it hurts Johnny even more and it will continue to hurt Johnny when he's gone, will _especially_ hurt Johnny when he's gone.


End file.
